Laurie Odjick is at a loss to explain what happened to her daughter Maisy and the teen’s best friend, Shannon Alexander.

They vanished on Sept. 6, 2008, from Alexander’s Maniwaki, Que., apartment outside of the Kitigan Zibi Anishnabeg First Nation, an Algonquin reserve about 145 kilometres north of Ottawa.

Both teens — Maisy was 16 at the time of her disappearance and Shannon was 17 — left behind their purses and most precious personal belongings — wallets, clothes, IDs and medication.

It is as if they disappeared off the face of the Earth, just like 600 other missing or murdered aboriginal women and girls from across Canada in the past 20 years.

For years, the Native Women’s Association of Canada, First Nations groups and Amnesty International have tried to sound the alarm on the high number of aboriginal women who have disappeared in this country.

They say Ottawa has turned a blind eye — a charge the Conservative government denies.

But in late 2011, the United Nations Office for the High Commissioner on Human Rights signalled to the world that not everyone is blind.

The UN has initiated an “inquiry procedure” regarding the missing women.

In a statement released Dec. 16, 2011, it said if it receives “reliable information indicating grave or systematic (rights) violations, then it will invite the state to examine the information it has.

The UN inquiry procedure is being handled by the committee on the elimination of discrimination of women (CEDAW), a global group of 23 experts.

The federal government told the Star that, at the moment, no official inquiry has started. The UN is trying to figure out if they should proceed with an inquiry.

But Canada has been informed the matter will be discussed by the UN at the next session, which begins on Feb. 13, according to a foreign affairs department spokesperson.

Canada has been asked to submit all relevant information to the UN.

“Canada will, of course, work with the committee as it proceeds to consider the request for an inquiry,” the foreign affairs source said in an email.

CEDAW investigates only the most serious allegations of female human rights abuses. Its last high-profile case in North America involved the brutal sex slayings, murders and disappearance of an estimated 800 women in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico, since 1993.

Many of the murdered women’s mutilated and tortured corpses were found on the outskirts of the desert city near the border with Texas. Mexican authorities blamed the killings on everything from drug to organ trafficking to crimes of passion, domestic violence, vengeance and sex. Most of the murdered were poor workers or students and the cases were scarcely investigated.

The UN slapped the Mexican government for “extremely inadequate” responses to the crimes, according to a 2005 inquiry report.

While Mexico did commit to regularly reporting on the steps it is taking to stop the murders, the UN noted the situation in Ciudad Juárez is “highly complex, tragic, prolonged and full of unacceptable uncertainties, suspicions and horrors.”

Ontario Aboriginal Affairs Minister Kathleen Wynne says she expects Canada to work with the UN but the problems surrounding violence and aboriginal women are not easily solved.

“This is an issue on a bunch of levels — there is an enforcement issue, a policing issue,” Wynne says. “But I think overarching it is the same kind of issues we have been talking about — education and social fabric issues.”

Canadian native leaders say it is a national “shame” that they needed the UN to draw attention to the problem.

They argue police do not take the disappearance of aboriginal kids or women seriously. While the official number of missing or dead is 600, it could be as high as 3,000, they add. Without funding to track the cases, no one knows for sure, according to the Montreal-based website Justice for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women.

“It is disappointing and frustrating when we have to go outside our borders to seek attention or get help to address an issue that has been on the table, probably since the 1950s,” says Mike Metatawabin, deputy grand chief of the Nishnawbe Aski Nation, which represents 40 Cree and Ojibwa communities in northern Ontario.

“I know in my community, Fort Albany (along the James Bay coast), we’ve had women go missing . . . and there was no justice.”

A common complaint is that police authorities “don’t seem to care,” adds Metatawabin. “There is no officer or unit assigned to follow up on all of these files,” he says.

If these women were non-native and had gone missing in large urban centres, special task forces and investigations would be struck immediately, noted Patrick Madahbee, grand council chief of the Anishinabek Nation, which represents 39 Indian communities.

“What do you call this kind of lack of response?” he asks. “Is it apathy? Is it racism? What is it? There are two types of treatment going on in this country — one for the ordinary citizen, for the most part, and the other for First Nations.”

Madahbee adds he can’t recall ever seeing an Amber Alert — immediate messages broadcast on radios and on electronic highway signs when a child is feared abducted or has disappeared — for a missing aboriginal teen.

Shannon Alexander’s father Bryan wants to know why it has taken so long to get any attention regarding Canada’s missing women.

“There are more than 500 missing. What took the UN so long? Are they like Stephen Harper — they just walk away?” he asks. “I don’t know what to do.”

The Surete du Quebec says there are no leads or recent confirmed sightings. The teens haven’t attempted to reach out to anyone and could be anywhere, according to Sgt. Ronald McInnis.

Maisy’s mother, Laurie Odjick, feels the investigation into the girl’s disappearance was botched from the start.

The last day she saw Maisy was Friday, Sept. 5, 2008. Odjick was returning a pot to her mom’s house up the street.

“Maisy was standing there with Shannon, I just said, ‘I love you, talk to you later,’ and then I hugged her and that was it,” says Odjick, an addictions counsellor.

By Monday, both families were in full panic.

“I honestly think something has happened,” she says after a long pause. “I know my daughter. I am sure she would have called home.”

At first, the cases were split up — aboriginal police services looked for Maisy and Quebec police searched for Shannon because she lived off the reserve.

Only after her pleading were the cases put together under one provincial investigator, Odjick says.

“My daughter’s rights were violated. She did not get a proper investigation from the beginning,” she says.

When aboriginal police responded to the call, they labelled the girls runaways, she says.

As a result, there was no immediate search for the girls. “Nobody went looking for them, I did that. The first search was done by my family and friends. The second search was done by the reserve.”

The volunteer group Search and Rescue Global 1 conducted a third look of the area with nearly 100 people and a canine unit.

At this point it was almost a year after the girls disappeared and the professional searchers told Odjick nothing could be found.

“There was no help for me. I am fighting this on my own.”

Odjick’s family has started a website, www.findmaisyandshannon.com, and raised money for a reward and to put up a giant billboard outside the reserve.

When Odjick found out the UN was making inquiries into what is happening in Canada, her first though was, “Why now?”

“Way before Maisy went missing this was happening. Why now? Is it because of the spotlight? I believe we’ve been treated differently, from the media, by everybody.”

A few months after Maisy went missing, so did Brandon Crisp, a 15-year-old Barrie boy who ran away because his parents took his Xbox video console.

The community and police came together even though Crisp was deemed a runaway. He was found dead three weeks later.

“My daughter was also called a runaway from the beginning and we didn’t get a minuscule of the attention the boy did,” she says. “All we want is answers.”

A UN inquiry can’t help with justice for hundreds of Canadian families, she says.

“Are they actually going to come and meet with us? Sit down and ask us what happened?” she asks.

Odjick says during the investigation into Maisy’s disappearance, no one ever met with her. “I was never interviewed by police. I was never asked to take a lie-detector test. Nothing happened. Nothing was done right for my daughter.”

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